after all
by Gaia Less
Summary: Post-all things. Okay. We saw the teaser. We saw the end. What the hell happened in between there?!


afterall

TITLE: after all  
AUTHOR: Gaia Less  
RATING: PG  
SPOILERS: Okay. We saw the teaser. We saw the end. What the hell happened in between there?!  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Mulder, Scully, or anyone else you might recognize from the series. They are owned by Chris Carter, 1013, and Fox. I dont own them. No copyright infringement is intended. I didn;t create em, I'm just playing with them. I'll give them back when I'm done. Promise!! Please don't sue me...   
  
Archive anywhere, but please get my permission first :) tis as easy as emailing me and saying, Yo, Gaia, I wanna put your fanfic, [title here], on my site, okay? You can even simply cut and paste that sentence into an email document! I will reply with something along the lines of Hey, that's cool. Promote me! Yeah! Sweeeeet. See? Tis VERY easy :) Wowwww. Hehe  
  
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~*after all*~  
by Gaia  
  
**Mulder**  
  
Scully turns her head and looks at me, and I stare at a point on the floor across the room, thinking. ...All the choices would lead to this very moment. When will it turn... and we wouldn't be sitting here together. It says a lot... it says a *lot* a lot, and I mean it's probably more than we should get into at this late hour... I trail off, and turning to look at Scully, I realize it *is* more than we should get into at this late hour. She's fallen asleep.  
  
I stare at her for a moment. She looks very peaceful, and so beautiful. I lean over and brush a piece of her hair back away from her face. My face is close to hers. I can feel her breath on my cheek. I want to kiss her... but I don't want to wake her up. So instead I pull a blanket up over her. I watch her as she sleeps. She leans against my side, and I put my arm around her, just thinking about everything we'd talked about tonight, and about her... and us...  
  
After a while, I pull the blanket over my legs, and fall asleep as well.  
  
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**Scully**  
  
I wake up in the middle of the night. I don't move, but I do realize that I'm somewhat uncomfortable. I look around the room for a minute, and notice Mulder, asleep next to me on the couch.  
  
I try to shift into a more comfortable position without waking Mulder, but I am unsuccessful. He opens his eyes and blinks once.   
  
I whisper. Sorry I woke you... I was just trying to get into a more comfortable spot...  
  
If you want me to move, I will. I can sleep on the floor, he says.  
  
I reply quickly. Maybe too quickly. I say again. It's not you... it's just... I don't like sleeping sitting up.  
  
He thinks for a moment. he says, standing up. Get up. I stand up next to him. He starts to take the cushions off the couch, and then he moves the coffee table out of the way. Then he finally unfolds the couch, revealing a sofa bed. he says. He smiles. I forgot I had this. I've used it... once, I think.  
  
I smile back at him and sit down on the bed. Mulder walks around to the other side of the bed and stretches out next to me. He hands me a pillow, and I lie down. I stare at the back of his head for a moment, and then move closer to him. He rolls over and looks at me. I whisper. I don't want the moment to suddenly become awkward, but it's threatening to.  
  
I think he can feel the awkwardness approaching, so he puts his arms around me and pulls me close to him. He kisses me suddenly...  
  
...and suddenly nothing even matters. ll I know is that I'm in a bed with Fox Mulder... and now there is only the two of us, and nothing else in the world. I no longer have to worry about Daniel Waterson, or Maggie, or any of the events of the past two days... except for being told that everything happens for a reason. *This* is happening for a reason. It's not awkward, it's not impulse, it's just what's happening, and it's happening for a reason.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
I wake up early in the morning. For a moment I forget that I'm at Mulder's apartment, and that the arms that are holding me are his, but then remember the night before.  
  
I lean against Mulder, listening to him breathe. I close my eyes for a moment, taking everything in. Then suddenly I pull back and get out of the bed.   
  
I stand at the edge of the sofa, staring down at Mulder for a minute. I walk around to the other side of the sofa and kiss his forehead gently, not wanting to wake him. I hesitate for a moment before I leave him, leaning over one more time and whispering, I love you in his ear. He doesn't wake up, but turns his head a little to the side. I gather up my clothes and go into the bathroom to get dressed.  
  
I pull on my shirt, staring at my reflection in the mirror. Was what happened last night right? Was it really meant to happen? Now that it's over, I'm not sure what to think.   
  
I walk toward the door of Mulder's apartment. Before I leave, I glance back over my shoulder. Mulder is still asleep on the sofa. I pause for a moment, and then change my mind. I can't just leave. Instead, I walk into the kitchen, and make some coffee. Then I sit down at the cluttered kitchen table, and, moving some of the stuff aside, find a clean piece of paper and a pen. I start to write.  
  
Dear Mulder,  
Well, look at this. It's barely six o'clock on a Saturday morning, making coffee; waiting for you to wake up. This wasn't how I was planning on spending my Saturday, you know. I was actually planning on sleeping in and simply relaxing for today. But here I am, at your apartment. I must say that I wasn't quite expecting to wake up here in your arms, on a sofa bed. It's not that I was bothered by it, I just was not sure if it was really happening. I cannot tell you how long I've wanted to wake up with you beside me. I cannot tell if this was real, or simply a dream. Which, I suppose, is why I'm here now. I'm still waiting for reality to sink in. I'm waiting for you to wake up and tell me that what happened last night was not just my imagination. But if it was just my imagination--if I'm at my apartment, asleep in my own bed, or even on your couch alone right now--I must say it was one hell of a dream. If it wasn't all a dream, and you wake up and you read this letter, I want you to know that I love you, and I can't remember a time that I didn't. I realize how sappy this is, and I'm even considering not letting you read this. But it's true. It's all true. That's why I'm still here, Mulder--because it is true.  
I love you,  
Scully  
  
My hand is shaking as I finish the letter. I reread what I've written. Now what? Do I wake him up? Do I go now, and leave the letter on the table? Or do I just wait?  
  
I decide on the third option.  
  
I pour myself a cup of steaming coffee, closing my eyes and feeling the hot liquid on my tongue. I take a deep breath, and open my eyes again to see Mulder walking into the kitchen. he says. He seems almost surprised to see me.  
  
I reply. I, uh, I made coffee.  
  
Oh. Thank you. I stand up and walk to the counter, getting out another mug and pouring him some coffee. I take it back over to him. He's sat down at the table, and discovered the letter.  
  
I stand next to him as he reads it. It takes him a long moment, and I figure that he's rereading it. After what seems like an eternity, he looks up at me. Then he stands, taking my hand. He stands close to me, looking down on me with an unreadable expression.  
  
he whispers. I was afraid it was all a dream too. But... it wasn't. I...  
  
I smile at him, and suddenly tears spring to my eyes. I don't know why. I lean into his embrace, feeling him gently rock back and forth.  
  
We stand there in his kitchen, holding each other, for a long time. I stare out the window, watching as the twilight begins to fade away into dawn.  
  
He steps backwards, and, still holding my hand, takes me back into the living room. We sit down together on the bed, watching the sun come up through his little window. I sit in his lap, leaning the back of my head against his shoulder.   
  
It seems so perfect. Everything makes sense now. It all fits together perfectly. Everything in my life has led up to right here, to this exact moment... and even through all of the bad things, the affair, my abduction, my cancer, losing so many loved ones in my life... none of it seems to matter anymore, except that it brought me here, to where I am today. To this exact moment.  
  
If I went back and took away all of the bad things that happened, in an attempt to bring more good to my life, the best thing would have never happened.  
  
I wouldn't be here, with Mulder, watching the sun come up over Washington DC. I probably would have never met Mulder. Or joined the FBI, or ruined the Waterson family, or gone to med school. Or anything. It all was meant to happen, and it was meant to happen this way and this way only.  
  
After all, *everything* happens for a reason...  
  
THE END  
  
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End file.
